As South As South Goes
by disc0urse
Summary: Liaryne "Liar" Sand is sent by her vengeful uncle, Oberyn, to fight with the Northern Rebellion against the Lannisters on the Throne. She proves herself the true 'Valkyrie of Dorne' and more than just a rising bastard in battle, and she may be the one strategist that can stop the Young Wolf from leading himself towards his own downfall.
1. I

**I. As South As South Goes**

The Red Viper perched calmly on his red, plush chaise lounger, eyeing his dearest niece before him as she sipped her Dornish wine. She held her goblet against her red-coated lips while she stared at the short table in between them, contemplating his recent proposition. Her nails tapped absentmindedly against her cup, the sounds almost echoing through the silent chamber.

Eventually, he raised his own golden chalice up to her and she hesitantly watched his motion. "So, do you agree?"

Liaryne sighed slightly, "My grandfather won't be happy. You know he has a certain _dislike_ for the Starks."

"He has every right. Lord Eddard killed your uncle during the rebellion." Oberyn nodded, bringing his wine to his mouth, "But if you also remember, it was the Lannisters that commanded your dear aunt and young cousins to be butchered."

She couldn't disagree. The Rebellion took a great toll on both sides of Liaryne's family. She had not even reached her first name day by the time her aunt, Elia Martell, and uncle, Authur Dayne, were taken as casualties to the war. Followed shortly by her aunt Ashara's suicide. And now another rebellion had started - and she was torn for sides.

Her mother, Shana Dayne, was sister to the legendary Authur Dayne. Due to the widely known fact that he was killed by Lord Eddard Stark at the tower of Joy, her family were slightly opposed to the Northern Warden and his family. However, Liaryne was slightly less _hostile_ after she had learnt that the honourable Lord Stark had the decency to bring the famous family sword - Dawn - back to Starfall in respect for the acclaimed fallen Knight.

While her father, Doran Martell, the Prince of Sunspear, was the eldest brother to Elia - wife of Rhaegar Targaryen - who was brutally murdered on orders of Tywin Lannister, along with her young children. It was not a hidden fact that the Martells were aggressively vengeful, Liaryne's uncle Oberyn being the most notable.

She was raised by her father to be merciful, whilst simultaneous training with her skilled uncle, who had made it painfully obvious that he was raising her to help him take revenge on the Golden Lions of the Westerlands on behalf of his brother had been passive about the ordeal of starting a war. Oberyn wasn't about to let the opportunity of fighting against the Lannisters, in a war he didn't need Doran's approval to start, pass him by. He had asked his only niece to meet with him to discuss a possible alliance with the Northern Rebels that were being led by the Young Wolf.

He leaned forward, his brown eyes boring into Liaryne's violet ones, a family trait passed through her Dayne blood. "At least the wolves in the North are known to be honourable, even to a fault maybe, but the Lannisters are on the throne now. I know you've already heard of the horrors that boy Joffrey has committed before he was even King. Would you rather a conniving lion on the throne, or a righteous wolf?"

She nodded sorrowfully. "I heard he would skin the cats in the Red Keep, and abuse the servants, as well as his younger siblings."

"And we all know he could do so much worse with the power he has been granted, especially with his scheming mother whispering madness into his ear. I already know Doran would not let us take all of the Martell forces to fight in rebellion. He prefers peace and friendship, but us, we know that people need to pay for their crimes against our family - that the Martells will not be knocked down so easily. If we allied ourselves with the Northerners we might have more of a chance at taking Kings Landing and destroying the Lions."

"And what soldiers are you expecting me to take?" She narrowed her eyes, her uncle had probably been planning this since he'd heard the slightest rumour of a rebellion. His anger had not diminished over the years, he was still just as vengeful as the first time he had told Lyrine exactly what had happened to her aunt on her sixth name day.

"You've trained with some of the most prestigious warriors in Dorne throughout your life. You've befriended them and gained their trust. I'm sure if you asked, some would follow you North."

"You want me to ask my friends to come fight in a war they have no part in, and defy my father while doing so."

"Doran will not punish his eldest daughter."

"Besides, I am a bastard. You know how the rest of Westeros treat people like me. No one in the north will take a bastard like me seriously." She took a big gulp of her wine with a roll of her eyes.

"They need all the help they can get. Besides, the Stark boy was raised with his bastard brother in Winterfell. He must have a soft spot for them." She shook her head in disbelief and was about to put an end to the discussion. She wasn't about to betray her father by ignoring his commands and taking herself and her friends to their deaths in a strange land. But then she looked up at the stony face of her uncle. He'd never shown much emotion that could depict him as a weak man, he was the lethal Red Viper of Dorne after all, but she saw deeper. She could see the love he had for his slain family, an unrelenting anger he had for the Lannisters, the pleading need for revenge. He was not a patient man, she knew he wouldn't be able to wait much longer before he disregarded his sanity and slid himself straight into the Lions' den. She needed to help him, to at least stall him and give him a chance to think of a reasonable plan before willingly offering himself to be eaten alive.

"If you believe this is the best move, I'll send messengers to some of the families I think might be prepared to help. But we'll have to be quiet about this. It'll break my parents' hearts if they heard."

"Of course, Liaryne." He grinned at the 17-year-old girl, who could surpass most knights in the rest of the six kingdoms in single combat and warfare. She had trained harder and stronger than even the Sand Snakes, her cousins, taught by Oberyn himself that a war was coming for them all. He probably meant something about his revenge fantasy or downfall of the Lannisters. He'd never predicted the war coming was far bigger, far deadlier, and so much further North than he'd imagined.

Some of Oberyn's youngest bastard daughters came bounding into the chamber, giggling and chasing after each other, hopping over the seats and tables, hitting one another with wooden weapons. Liaryne's uncle smiled as he watched them, before turning to her.

"In years to come, people will sing songs of how our blood is that of ferocious warriors, who travelled to strange places for their people's well-being and fought to bring justice to our family name. They will sing songs about you, Liaryne Sand, the Valkyrie of Dorne, from as south as south goes."


	2. II

**II. Terra Incognita**

 _ **Unknown Territory**_

"Is this some kind of joke?" Robb Stark of Winterfell, the leader of the Northern army and next in line to be Liege Lord of whatever there was above The Neck, sat with a glare at the head of the large table in the centre of the tent, his councilmen distastefully eyeing the small host that had just arrived from Dorne. "Why would you want to help us?"

Rhyse Fowler heir of Skyreach, Kaspyan Qorgyle of Sandstone, Ser Ferox Blackmont of House Blackmont and Ser Tacenda Santagar of the Spottswood all gathered around their bastard princess, providing her with her own council of warriors that were undeniably far better experienced than any boisterous northern man sat before them. You could probably find better war commanders in a tavern back in Dorne than around this table.

Liaryne stood tall at the front of her men, the unusual heavy cloak gathered on her shoulders and dark hair messy from the chilly winds of the new lands she was venturing in, but still a commander to her people, through and through. Despite being only 17, her warriors were her friends and they respected her endlessly, with unwavering loyalty and admiration. She had trained with them for the majority of their lives and they had travelled together across the Narrow Sea when they got bored of that. They were an already formed army, close-knit and only inexperienced in defeat.

"Does our reasoning matter?" The raven-haired girl raised her eyebrow, feeling as distrustful of the northerners as they were to them. Ferox, Liaryne's Sworn Sword, let his hand grip the handle of his sword when he heard a chair scrape back and one of the Northern men stood up with a scowl.

Before this man could speak Robb held up his hand and spoke himself in a calm yet surprisingly commanding tone. "We want to know your intentions. What do the Dornish get from helping the North?"

Liaryne simply shrugged, "We hate the Lannisters as much as everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps even more. We want them off the throne as much as you do."

A man dressed in black and gold spoke up from beside Robb, "We don't trust southerners."

Rhyse's uneasiness spurred him to step forward with a deadly glower. "We have an army on its way here that's more experienced than any _you've_ ever seen, kid." His cold stare never left the Northern King, who, although having lived in the North all his life, had goosebumps raising along his arms. He didn't back down, though - credits to him, since Rhyse was a frightful sight when he was angry. "10,000 soldiers."

"What an absolute joke!" Another man spoke up and the entire Dornish party shot him a dirty look. You'd think they were sworn enemies. "We have more serious things to focus on than conversing with the Dornish."

"You should be more serious in times like these," Kaspyan growled, barely containing his anger as his brown eyes darkened considerable, turning almost black. "You Northern men can't seem to separate reason from pride."

Yet the Dornish warriors were barely able to either.

"It's going to be the ruin of your kind." Rhyse stepped up next to his commander, feeling her patience slowly faltering and he discretely pulled a glaring Kaspyan behind them. Liaryne rose her chin and looked down at the Northerners, the instinct to assert her power creeping up at her.

Robb took notice of the fact that the southerners were all gripping at their weapons, eyes darting around seemingly looking for any excuse to attack. Except for Liaryne. She was intimidating enough with her stare and seemed content to rely on her counsel's aid. "We don't take threats lightly." He narrowed his eyes at the girl, expecting her to tell her men to back down. She didn't.

"Obviously." Liaryne laughed, placing a hand on her hip. "You started a war after hearing one word of your father's imprisonment." She folded her arms in front of her and narrowed her eyes.

"You little-" An older man stood to his feet this time but was gently pulled down by a red-haired lady; Lady Stark. The Northmen were really showing off their short tempers today.

"Nevertheless," she commenced with an unkind smile "this works to all of our advantages."

A tall, narrow-faced man rose to his feet and manoeuvred between the two groups, "Would you be able to excuse us for a minute? This is all a bit sudden and I think it is something we should first discuss in private."

Liaryne rolled her eyes and let her lips form a fake smile. "Take all the time you need, my Lords." She feigned a curtsey, which was almost unnoticeable since it was so slight, but Robb noticed the mocking gesture. "It's not like the Lannisters are marching our way this very second."

She nodded to her men before they all trickled out of the tent, her sending one last look towards the young Lord Stark before following. They walked a few minutes to the edge of camp to wait with the rest of their party of 300. They hadn't brought many warriors with them, to begin with, with the intention of appearing to be peaceful and not so intimidating. The rest of the army was to sneak past the Iron Islands and dock at Seagard before they all converge south of the Twins after the alliance was made. That is if the alliance was ever actually formed.

"They disrespect us by turning us away like this." Kaspyan spat, ignoring the stares from some of the northern soldiers watching the gathering foreigners. "If they were my leaders, I would not follow them into battle."

"What happened?" Freyja Manwoody approached from the crowd of the rest of the Southerners, slicked black hair revealing the stern contours of her pale face. She pushed passed the people that didn't immediately move for her and came to a stop next to Kaspyan with a curious look. "Because I haven't finished sharpening my sword yet..."

Liaryne closed her eyes with a sigh, "You aren't going to need your sword, Frey-"

"Not yet." Rhyse chimed in, folding his muscled arms over his chest.

Tacenda agreed in a small voice, his curly locks bouncing when he nodded, "They are not like us, Liaryne. They do not fight like we do. How are we expecting an alliance with these people to work?" He turned and kicked a stray stone.

"How can we trust them?" Ferox piped up, voice gruff. "How do we know that they won't surrender this war if they're given the chance to get their Stark Warden back?"

"Stop." Liaryne turned to face her counsel and friends with an irritated frown. "We are no better than them at trusting strangers, clearly. But we must remember why we are here. You chose to come because we agree with their cause, and surely thats enough to put our differences to the side if it means we can win this war."

They tilted their heads down like dogs scolded by their master.

* * *

"I have too many problems with this, and that roasted bitch from the South is the biggest one." The Greatjon almost shouted from inside the tent. "That little girl thinks she can threaten us like we're nothing but scum. We are Lords of noble birth, she is but a bastard."

"What right does she have to speak to us like that?" Lord Karstark agreed with a firm nod.

Another lord leaned forward with a hateful glare, "And a woman at that! How does she think she's going to lead an army of men?"

From across the table, Roose Bolton eyed Robb, "She's a girl who is offering to help us." Robb finally looked up from staring at the table and listened to the lord, "We all know we could use the extra forces."

The young lord nodded in agreement, "With her numbers, we'd be on better ground to face the Lannister armies."

The ferocious Maege Mormont of Bear Island chimed in with a wrinkled smirk, "Plus, haven't you heard the stories about that girl? 'The Valkyrie of Dorne' they call her." She looked around the group like she was telling a haunted tale to her children. "They say she turns into another creature on the battlefield. Ruthless. Unforgiving."

"She's only a girl." Theon Greyjoy scoffed. "Nothing compared to a wolf." Grey Wind growled slightly from under the table, reminding everyone that he was present.

Robett Glover sat back in his chair and laid his hands on the armrests. "Her uncle was Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning," he turned towards the Stark boy, "who your father killed." Robb had heard about the famous Sword of the Morning, and how he died at the hands of his father while guarding his aunt Lyanna on orders from Rhaegar Targaryen. A White Cloak who served the Targeryens.

"Should we even mention The Red Viper - another uncle of hers." Maege was clearly in favour of partnering with the Dornish girl. "She has the blood of warriors."

Lord Bolton skirted around the table towards their leader but eyeing the rest of the group, "Her father is Doran Martell. She has powerful connections. She's already rallied an army of 10,000 to come to our aid. Being a bastard means nothing, not to her or her people. Bastards are treated like true borns in Dorne."

"She's just a woman!" Theon reminded, exasperatedly.

"She is a useful woman that we should keep as an ally." Maege glared at the younger boy and he couldn't help but cower away from the intimidating lady.

"What do you think, My Lord?" Rodrik Cassel asked Robb after noticing he had been silent for a while as his bannermen argued. Caitlyn Stark sat beside her son, equally as quiet.

"All alliances in war are risky." He finally let out. "Who can we truly trust?"

The council went quiet as they considered his words.

"Maybe we could test her allegiance," Theon suggested with a boyish shrug.

The oldest Stark child raised an eyebrow. "How do you suppose we do that?"

The curtain to the tent rustled as it was pulled aside and in walked an impatient looking Liaryne with her enterage following behind again, as well as the Northern guards that failed to keep them out of the tent. "If I may intrude, My Lords, it doesn't seem like you're about to come to a conclusion any time soon. Could we speed up the process and just discuss a suitable exchange if you aren't willing to accept our reasoning alone?" She spoke as the lords in the tent stood up to meet her with dividedly shocked and annoyed expressions.

"Why would we offer you anything?" Robb narrowed his eyes, remaining sat in his chair next to his mother and Rodrik Cassel, his hands steepled before him.

"As payment for our army, of course." Rhyse shrugged with an innocent smirk, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement.

His commander nodded, lips also tilted upward. "War costs more than just lives, you know?"

The Greatjon laughed, shaking his head. "This is ridiculous."

"Perhaps you should've been happy with our first offer," Kaspyan leered, his white teeth contrasting against his tanned skin when he smiled.

"10,000 men in exchange for a place in your army." Ser Tacenda reinstated calmly, the knight's hand having never left his weapon's handle. Freyja, who had decided to join the meeting this time, surveyed the small space with her freshly sharpened sword in its sheath.

Liaryne glanced at the pair behind her before turning back to the Northern lords, "We can still accept these terms without any complications if you agree now."

"And your father?" Robb spoke up after a pause, "What does Doran Martell get from sending 10,000 men up here, and leaving Dorne unprotected?"

"It wasn't him that sent us. But our home has not been left unprotected, I assure you." She folded her arms with a tilt of the head, "Besides, Dorne isn't someplace you need to worry about."

After a brief staring contest between the two young leaders, Robb was the one to finally pipe up. "Very well." He nodded before standing, all his councilmen giving him their full attention. "We will accept your offer and welcome your men into our army."

If any of the lords weren't happy with this decision, they didn't voice it - surprising, considering their very vocal opinions earlier - but Liaryne respected their loyalty to their liege house. Her own men shared pleased grins with one another, Freyja didn't bother changing her glare though.

"Good." The lady smiled, "We would also appreciate a seat on your war council." She chipped in as an afterthought, just before she was about to turn and leave.

"What? That wasn't apart of your terms before." The Greatjon raised his voice and glared at the woman before it eventually descended into chuckles. "This ones got bigger balls than any Southerner I've ever met."

"Average Dornish balls are adequately sized, my lord." Rhyse snorted, "You've been missing out with the ones you've been seeing."

The Southern party errupted into laughs, with some of the Northerners even cracking a smile. The Greatjon burned red glared harshly their way.

Just as he was about to retaliate, Robb finally stood up from his chair. "Fine. One of you can be on our war council. Is that all?"

The sides of Liaryne's mouth pulled up in a satisfied grin, "The Dornish are honoured to be joining forces with you, Lord Stark. I hope our alliance is long and favourable for both of us." With that, she turned and left the tent, her warriors following her out without another word as Robb slowly fell back into his seat.

Only Rhyse Fowler stayed behind for a few more seconds, chuckling. "We'll pitch our tents to the south of yours. We won't meet up with the rest of our men until after we've crossed the Twins. I think that gives us enough time to become familiar with one another, don't you?" He waved his hand slightly before trailing after his commander and leaving the lords to continue arguing amongst themselves.


End file.
